


The Last Living Rock King

by lakemonsters



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, M/M, Weirdness, band-au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:30:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2214147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakemonsters/pseuds/lakemonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyoya's always dreamt of leaving the small town he grew up in and live like a rockstar. He's smart enough to know that it's never really going to happen - not in that way, at least. So he makes do and accepts a summer job offer from his Uncle who rents out studios to indie bands, nowhere bands, etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Living Rock King

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of a 2007-ish series I wrote and posted on Livejournal. I've taken time to try and edit out the spine-tingling and fuck-what-was-I-thinking-was-I-really-that-high bits. Thanks for taking the time to read.
> 
> Bob Dylan, thanks for the quotes and the chapter title.
> 
> Former title of this chapter was "It Starts With A Virgin" | Yes my thoughts exactly.

He turns the radio up as the DJ plays the latest song from his favorite band. He hears the guitar rip through the morning air and he takes it as a sign to look to his right – at a poster on his wall. 

His mother knocks on his door and tells him to lower the volume.

“Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes.”

“You don't have to work so far, Kyoya. Tokyo is crazy specially in the summer.”

“That's okay. Uncle needs help.”

“He should just sell that building. Renting out studios to bands does not sound too profitable.”

He shrugs. He has nothing to say to that. He looks at the poster on the wall one last time before he moves off the bed and puts his coat on. It's the summer but he wants to wear it anyway.

“Your father will drive you to the train station.”

“Okay.”

 

*

 

_A song is anything that can walk by itself._

 

Mukuro steps inside the small studio with his head high and a tune on his lips - there's no reason for humility when he had every reason to gloat. Parading around in Corduroy flairs and smelling like fame, only this is not a show and they are not yet a big-name-band.

The smile he gives Yamamoto is dangerous like he's practiced it forever in front of a mirror.

"Looks like you got laid last night." Yamamoto's eyes dance with amusement and he says it simply. Long limbs splayed everywhere as he sits on the battered couch, strumming a tune off a pop song just to spite Mukuro. No one gets mad at him, of course; even when he starts playing Westlife on electric guitar which is more or less a mortal sin to any indie purist. It's like the law of the universe favors Yamamoto over all other beings on the planet, as his finale he gives his guitar a little kiss on the maple neck. The black telecaster in his hands is called Delilah – named after the woman that brought Samson down to his knees. 

Mukuro is not intimidated nor annoyed by Yamamoto's joke. He gives the guitarist a one over – his eyes giving Delilah a gentle gaze before he starts to prepare for rehearsal. The black and white jacket he is wearing sways just above his hips as he pulls it off seductively, hanging it by the coat rack near the door. Mukuro then proceeds to roll up the sleeves of his crisp white button down shirt before sliding in front of Yamamoto. He perches on the coffee table and smiles at him, this time speckled with hints.

"So am I right?" Yamamoto prods.

Mukuro is careful to bend and hide behind his fringes as he reaches for his own guitar – housed in a black leather case. As he takes her (the guitar) out – he reveals a cherry red Les Paul – sexy like him, dangerous is her voice when he begins to strum a few chords off of an Aerosmith song. Mukuro stretches one long leg and rests his foot just a breath away from Yamamoto's crotch.

“I had five minutes in heaven. It was fun.” Mukuro winks. Then they start jamming for real with Yamamoto playing along and raising the bar by changing the song to a power ballad solo.

Would have been a perfect set if it wasn't for an out of tune bass.

Gokudera's by the water dispenser, holding his purple bass guitar. He stops playing and stares at the two musicians by the couch. Gokudera is here for artistic expression, he's pretty sure that his intentions are noble and that this whole thing - this band - better see it his way, because he is the one with a vision, even Mukuro recognizes him as a true artisan.

"It's either we get serious practicing or we just call it a day and go home."

"Is Gokudera in a bad mood today or is it just me?" Mukuro asks innocently.

"I have better things to do and songs to write than answer your stupid questions. Thank you." Gokudera is confident that he's far better and focused than anyone in this little congregation. "So if you prefer to talk about your conquests and innuendos – then I am out of here.” The bass player looks up and by accident meets Yamamoto's eyes - looking at him and asking what's wrong without having to speak - it's amazing how they can communicate without words. Gokudera easily shifts his gaze to the instrument he's holding, then tinkers with the chains on his belt. He does not want to answer Yamamoto's unspoken question. He does not want to admit that he's annoyed.

What's he going to say anyway? 'Your best friend is too comfortable with you and he's like this ridiculous sex god and I feel annoyed that you let him put his foot near your crotch – you bastard'.

Not going to happen.

 

"Come on man, sit down - we've just startd playing here!!!" 

The loud voice belongs to Ryohei who is sitting behind the Zildjian drumkit. Sasagawa is the powerhouse, the beat that they all follow, the backbone of their band. In a way, Ryohei inspires honestly in all of them because he is first to admit that being in this band is the only thing he can do, the only thing he wants to do. 

"Oh shut up, lawnhead. Don't you have better things to do like dye your hair?" 

Gokudera answers back and he knows that it's a little juvenile to say those things, but Ryohei's platinum hair was asking for it. And he is not in the mood to play nice with anyone let alone a reprobate who has nothing but beating drums on his mind.

"Stop calling me that! And I just had my hair colored a few days ago." 

As usual, Ryohei answers with literal honesty that it's hard not to just let it slide.

Mukuro stops playing his guitar and sighs dramatically - stands up and gets himself a glass of water from the dispenser. He makes sure that Gokudera gets a nice view of his backside, makes sure that he watches his sashay to the pantry and back. The guitarist wonders out loud. 

"So has anyone seen our vocalist?" Mukuro asks about Tsunayoshi – their vocalist – the one with the beautiful voice and the face of their motley crew.

 

Everyone looks at Gokudera: 

"He'll be a little late, he has finals." The bassist supplies and runs ringed fingers through his hair. He looks at his mobile phone and isn't really bothered about the time. They are on schedule and Tsunayoshi will not be arriving til later.

"Again?!" Ryohei argues.

"Yes. Unlike you he's trying to finish school and get a degree."

"Look, school's just not for me, ok?"

"Oh, I believe you. I need no convincing.” Gokudera says flatly. Yamamoto nudges him, a reminder of his limits when it comes to verbally abusing their drummer. 

Gokudera doesn't know when Yamamoto transferred seats but he hides his surprise well. He gives him a look that says he's not quite pleased with him. And Yamamoto's quite certain that the dark cloud looming over Gokudera is not going to go away any time soon. He also knows that it's because of that little flirting session with Mukuro. But then again there is nothing to worry about because it's all harmless fun. Mukuro and him are friends and nothing more. How many times have they fought about the other guitarist's behavior? And how many times have they agreed to disagree on the matter? 

Yamamoto is more than satisfied with this stalemate --

He touches Gokudera's arm.

"Don't touch me!" 

The bassist says as if scalded.

– and it's quite clear that he's the only one.

The long-standing conflict between Mukuro and Gokudera isn't because of music at all. Yamamoto is vaguely aware of that but chooses to dismiss Gokudera's assumptions. But he believes that the day Mukuro finds himself a steady partner, is the day that Gokudera will set down his guitar and get himself a cappuccino right in the middle of practice. 

Yamamoto recalls one pretty bad fight between Gokudera and Mukuro – one that ended up with Gokudera throwing a beer bottle at the guitarist (one that Mukuro easily dodged). Ryohei made an off-hand comment at that time – 'Mukuro is the type of person that inspires insecurity, don't you think?' At that time he only smiled at the drummer.

“Come on now, Hayato. Please calm down.” Yamamoto placates.

Mukuro doesn't even spare them a glance as he proceeds to tune his guitar.

 

*

 

_The people in my songs are all me._

 

"Please forgive me! I'm late! I'm sorry! I had trouble finishing my essay!" Tsunayoshi storms through the door and huffs by the window, hands pressed together with the base of his palm on his forehead. He's begging again, and sometimes he's just too humble for his own good. But it's also very considerate of him because the band's been waiting for an hour and a half.

"No problem. Just get ready for practice." Gokudera says and proceeds to plug his bass to an Orange amplifier.

The vocalist appreciates the pardon, bows low to everyone before he makes his way near the drum kit where his notes and lyric sheets are. He crouches beside Ryohei to plug in his microphone and fix the feedback – when he feels a foot nudge his ass slowly. The vocalist need not look up to know whose foot is nudging him.

"Hey, what subject was your last test for?" Mukuro smiles at him.

"Philosophy." Tsunayoshi smiles nervously and as afraid of confrontation as he is - avoids eye contact.

"Good subject. You think you passed?" Mukuro rotates his wrist and leans a bit closer, feigns waiting for an answer, he's not really that interested.

"Oi! Mukuro what are you his guidance counselor?" Gokudera's eyes are intense and though it might sound that he's being very possessive of Tsunayoshi - right now he does not care. He be greedy for attention when he wants to.

"Not really. I’m just making conversation."

"You think you can make conversation AFTER rehearsal?!"

Yamamoto reaches to place a well-meaning, calming hand on the small of Gokudera's back.

"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!" For the second time that day, he yells at him.

A certain silence settles in the studio. 

And only Mukuro dares to break the silence.

"Looks like you're not going to get laid tonight, Takeshi."

 

*

 

_I kinda live where I find myself._

 

Practice passes like a train in slow motion. 

Mukuro realizes that he's spent a good portion of it sitting on a high stool close to the window, his legs twisted in an elegant shape with his guitar perched on the tip of his knee. One leg swaying softly – distracting him from the harshness of Gokudera's mood and the tense practice session it dictates.

He stays in this spot because he needs air and something else look at aside from Tsunayoshi's back. He knows the playlist after all, memorized it since the last time it was revised.

They're playing 'Blue Jeans' by Blur and while his fingers cruise with the lazy piece, Mukuro lets his eyes wander to the parking space that can be clearly seen from where he's sitting: Mukuro spies the owner of the building walk to the gates and lets someone in. A young man, maybe around 18 shouldering a travel bag and sporting a thigh-length peacoat; black with pins at the shoulder and red plaid sewn over the pocket space.

Mukuro smirks because he appreciates style, no matter what it is. Mukuro smirks because it reminds him of how he used to be.

"Who do you think you are, fucking Johnny Rotten?" He whispers this to himself, then realizes that he's the only one playing his instrument. Mukuro looks around before a pick finds its way, bouncing lightly off his very stylish head.

"Will you fucking pay attention?" Gokudera snarls. "You missed an fucking transition!"

 

*

 

_I really didn't consider myself happy or unhappy._

 

Mukuro sends off a salute to Yamamoto when practice is done.

It's around eight in the evening, and everyone's just tired from a week of school or work. He's the only one left because he needs to replace a string on his guitar as it broke during one of the faster songs. With his legs crossed and back snug against the couch he slowly measures and tests for tension. It has to be just right, or it'll be no good in the end.

"Excuse me."

He doesn't hear the door open, he jumps a little and the string slips from his fingers and hits his chin.

"For fuck's sake. Ow."

The intruder does not say anything so Mukuro looks up to find the same boy he saw earlier that afternoon. Pseudo-Johnny Rotten is standing by the doorway. 

Lovely. Mukuro thinks as he swipes at his chin and is not at all surprised to find a little blood.

"There's this thing called knocking." The guitarist mutters.

"I'd been knocking for a while. You must be deaf." 

"Oh dear. That's very witty. I was just tuning my guitar. I really must be deaf. Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"I'm supposed to check the units. And make sure everything's intact."

"Oh, are you the new building manager?" The guitar player stands up and nurses his chin, making sure that this kid knows that he's looking him over. Up close, he's pretty, with fair skin and jet black hair. Mukuro wonders about preferences - because this boy looks like it'll be fun messing with him.

"Only for this summer. I'm helping my uncle out. He owns this building. I'm going in." His movements are sure and precise and he knows exactly what he's looking for in the studio. His Doc Martens' air cushioned soles quietly squeak over the floor as he pads about with his checklist. Though he is trying to show a nonchalant front, the stiffness of his shoulders and his measured steps give him away.

"Ah, summer jobs...” Mock wistful sentiments from the guitarist as he makes way and perches on the coffee table, making sure he has a good view when the boy bends over to check the switches. He is sure that this boy knows who he is and knows of the band he plays for if his body language is anything to go by.

"You gotta name? Need help with anything?"

The boy gives him a -look- then continues with his work.

"Hibari. And no, I'm fine, no help needed." The clipboard in his hands tap against one of the Orange amplifiers and Mukuro starts chuckling from where he's seated.

"Careful with that. The owner's very prissy."

"Hm. Bass players usually are."

Hibari smiles, though it's more mysterious than it is sincere.

"Oh...so you know band stuff?"

"I know many things. My knowledge is limited to what I've heard and read, though. But yeah, I do know many things." 

"I like a sharp tongue." Mukuro slithers off the table and walks closer.

"I like my personal space." Hibari looks back with a warning before he sets his clipboard down.

Mukuro pretends that the comment isn't directed towards him, rather he stands close to Hibari and watches him. "Where's your coat?" Hibari looks back with an irate look on his face. "My what? At the office. Why do you care?" He looks puzzled because he does not know why Mukuro knows he has a coat. Right now he's wearing a white button down shirt – almost similar to Mukuro's but his is short sleeved.

"Because it screamed silently at me."

Hibari closes his eyes and thinks that Mukuro truly is weird as his reputation dictates. He's heard of him. He's seen his pictures. He does resemble Sid Vicious. And so it makes him frown a little. Pseudo-Johnny Rotten will always get Pseudo-Sid's attention. Of course...but he feigns innocence.

"It's a goddamn coat. How could it scream at you?"

"You know what I mean. That coat is a little stamp of rebellion in that otherwise pristine get up of yours. Well that and your shoes. Nice touch." Mukuro smiles at the pressed pants and shirt that Hibari is wearing.

"I bet somewhere in there -- you're dying to breakout. Heard that your Uncle's hosting some cool indie band with super hot members – me being one of them, of course. And you wanted a summer to remember. Hence, the summer job and the get up. Well, you got my attention, Johnny."

The clipboard flies the short distance almost hitting Mukuro's face, is too sudden. "You think you're real smart aren't you." Hibari says before he tries to sock Mukuro.

"I see that I hit a sore spot. Uptight and a virgin. I hit the jackpot this summer.” Mukuro continues the verbal taunting while continuing to dodge another attempt at his face by the younger man. He doesn't count on Hibari sidestepping and reaching for his collar – until he finds himself on the floor weighed down by the younger man who sounds like he's – snarling and looking like he's – embarassed.

"That's none of your business, you freak."

"Aw. One of the sweeter names I'm given. Thank you." Mukuro grins and headbutts the other playfully. But he miscalculates his strength and height and without meaning to – Mukuro headbutts Hibari's nose instead.

A thin line of blood finds its way from nose to upper lip. He doesn't have second thoughts licking the blood off where his tongue can reach.

Up close – Hibari looks delicate and his round cheeks add to his charm. Pretty with a baby face. Mukuro knows that he's not really his type, but for some reason he can't really look away. He tells himself that maybe it's Hibari's eyes that's drawing him in or maybe he's just in the mood for a conquest.

"You cannot tease someone like that, Hibari. Sticking out that tongue, you had better know how to use it." 

Mukuro leans up and doesn't wait for an answer.

It's not clear whether it's Hibari's tongue in his mouth or the other way around. All he knows is that it feels like drinking fire, because it's too hot to taste like anything and it burns the roof of his mouth, the surface of his teeth and the hollows of his cheeks. Long arms struggle and reach around to hold Hibari in place as they mutually deepen the kiss, a give and take motion with each lick and pass. There's nothing that makes him feel more accomplished than writing a great chorus and taking someone's breath away.

When they pull for air, Mukuro pushes forward which makes Hibari slide back - "We should continue" Mukuro then reverses their position. Hibari looks slightly alarmed and flushed. Dazed to find himself on his back, laying on the battered couch that he thought was on the other side of the room.

Did they slip and slide across the floor while kissing? Shit.

"No. Get off."

"Let me give you a recap: clipboard, punch, headbutt, kiss."

"Wait." Hibari wants to sit up.

And while Mukuro likes his fun, he's not one to force the issue. He sits back and rocks to his heels – slipping thin fingers into the back pockets of his pants. 

"Hey, it's okay, it happens with virgins all the time."

"Shut up." Hibari wipes at his nose and frowns at the blood.

"Hey, you punched me first. I had to retaliate somehow."

"What part of this is retaliation?"

"What can I say? I make war but amend it with love afterwards."

"Okay. Enough trying to be John Lennon." Hibari tries to stand and reach for the clipboard and stares at Mukuro looking all indignant when his arms are not long enough to reach it.

“To be honest, I really don't like Lennon. I'm more a Jagger fan.” Mukuro says in his defense though looking elegant even as he gives Hibari some space to move. He half-expects him to stomp away so he doesn't really know what to do next when Hibari just stands there looking at him.

"Okay...what? Now it's awkward." Mukuro checks.

"I didn't want to be my first time in the floor of a dingy studio."

And then a million things run through Mukuro's head at full speed: Huh? Okay he wants to sleep with me? But he looks young. Am I going to go to jail for this? No he looks like he's legal. Well borderline Legal. He wants to sleep with me but not on the floor of the studio. I should take him to a love hotel. No money. He wants to sleep with me. We just met...

Since when did he become such a prude? Didn't he just bang a waitress at the back of her car last night? His five minutes in heaven?

You can do this. Mukuro tells himself.

 

*

 

_I really didn't consider myself happy or unhappy._

 

Mukuro's staring at the mattress on the floor, the cuff of his coat partially covers his hand. He starts playing with the buttons near the cuff and sneaks a glance at Hibari who is standing beside him, so little space in this bedroom. 

The mattress is what he normally calls his bed and they are in his room.

Hibari is now wearing the coat that started it all and his hands are snug and warm inside the pockets. He doesn't want to move, looking like he can't move unless he had a death wish – his face saying - Why, oh, why must I be attracted to someone living in filth? He finally takes a step back and shakes his head.

"I don't want to lay in your bed. I mean that's a bed, right?"

"Yes. That's a bed.” Mukuro exhales and crosses arms over his chest and tries not to roll his eyes. “Are you sure? We came all this way, babe."

"Don't call me babe." Hibari corrects him matter-of-factly and clucks his tongue.

“Ok, fine! You don't want to lay down. I get it."

Hibari looks at Mukuro and earnestly shakes his head and his lips seem to be pouting (Hibari might not be completely aware that he's doing so). "No. Really it looks dirty."

"I hear you. It's not like I have time to change my sheets regularly." Mukuro scratches his chin. "There's no extra sheets. Maybe we could do it standing up. See, my walls are clean." And this was said with such honesty and Mukuro looks so earnest that instead of getting annoyed, Hibari just lets him off with a roll of his eyes. 

"Okay." Hibari finally says ignoring how turned on Mukuro is judging from his eyes and body language. 

"Okay?" Mukuro double checks with a teasing smile.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

"Heard you the first time. Honest."

Mukuro grins and he is pleased that he was right all along. The deviant inside Hibari wants sex! Sex against the wall. How exciting. It's been a while since Mukuro's done it this way. He easily bridges the gap between them and he takes off the coat first and then he kisses him.

Mukuro feels Hibari's hand on his wrist.

"Can you hang the coat, first? I just had it dry-cleaned?"

 

*

 

_A poem is a naked person, some people say that I am a poet._

 

"Damn, your smile's even bigger than yesterday!" Yamamoto's greeting is sage and playful. He enters the studio and tosses his backpack to the side before sloppily landing beside Mukuro. The other rewards him with a nod of his head and an excessive yawn. The kind that says - I've been at it for hours, standing up to boot, I'm really deliciously tired.

"Oho! Sounds like she's a fox then?" Yes, boy talk is always serious business.

“Maybe." Mukuro says nothing and just thinks back on a night well spent. It was subdued and wild at the same time if that made any sense, even in his head he's sounding grammatically incorrect. 

Mukuro's in a weird sort of haze but he's happy. Has a bruised shoulder to commemorate his first virgin.

"Well?" Yamamoto grins.

Another yawn from Mukuro.

Gokudera's entrance is on cue and he walks real slow towards his usual place in the studio. But this weird behavior doesn't stop Gokudera from throwing Mukuro a deliberate and accusing glare. A warning of sorts.

“Oh dear, I'm sitting too close to Yamamoto yet again...” Mukuro sing-songs as he scoots even closer to the other guitarist. Yamamoto in turn, pats his shoulder and gets up to follow Gokudera.

There's a slow grin spreading on Mukuro's lips while watching him. Because it looks like he was wrong about something and that Yamamoto's way too cheerful this morning. Gokudera reaches for his chair. Ryohei bounds in and runs towards his drum kit - solidly bumping against Gokudera and pushing him back to land hard on his back side.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?" The bassist all but howls in Ryohei's direction. 

Obviously in pain.

"Oh. Sorry!" Ryohei finally realizes what's happened.

"Hey man, careful!" Yamamoto's smiling but he's already helping Gokudera up. Holding him protectively.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who got lucky.” Mukuro throws that in somewhere. Just because.

 

*

 

"Hey Mukuro, we're going out for pizza and beer!" Ryohei calls out in a booming voice.

"I have plans. I'll see you tomorrow."

Mukuro makes sure to wave at Yamamoto, just because it pisses Gokudera off. He also winks at Tsunayoshi because he knows that it makes Gokudera want to tear his hair out. When they're out of sight, he pulls out a cigarette and waits by the railing just outside the studio. He does not have to wait long as he sees Hibari come up the stairs, this time wearing a shirt that might be something right out of Mukuro's closet.

"Hey there...nice shirt." Mukuro smiles and greets Hibari at the end of the stairwell.

"I have a name." Hibari snaps back. “And thank you for lending me this.”

"I'm just glad we found something clean, Kyoya."

Hibari just shakes his head – but he doesn't protest when Mukuro pulls him close for a kiss when he comes at arm's length of the guitarist.

 

* __

_All I can do is be me, whoever that is._

 

Gokudera is early the next day because of a song idea that he wants to try out in a controlled environment. It's a song intro that will hopefully bloom into a great song which can get them a deal before the end of the year. It sounds catchy enough in his head so he's hoping it'll translate to instrument. He tries not to forget the tune so he hums to himself as he fishes for the keys -- the chain snags on one of his belts so he drops them. Gokudera bends to retrieve the keys and in that position he's able to peer inside the studio through the slightly open window.

He shakes his head and he knows in his heart of hearts that he really was not ready to see that: But part of Gokudera is happy that Mukuro's pre-occupied with someone else. Because Mukuro is inside the studio, laying on a spread blanket and spooning with some guy who looks like he just walked out of high school.

Gokudera trusts that Mukuro is not stupid enough to date a minor. So he pushes that thought out of his head and decides to walk down the street and have breakfast at a local ramen shop. 

He'll let those two wake up first.

 

*

 

"Can you get off me now?" Hibari says though his eyes are still heavy with sleep.

"Oh, right." Mukuro sits up and gives way. "Will I see you tonight?"

"I don't know." Hibari answers and rubs his eyes while yawning.

Mukuro smiles and shrugs a little. "Okay then, I'll see you when I see you."

"I have to go home and shower."

“Kyoya...glad you stayed the night.”

"Because..." Hibari says it like he's still in control, like there is logic behind what they did the night before. Proves it by looking away and pouting at his strange bedfellow. 

Hibari is on his knees, moving so he pushes apart Mukuro's legs. "Before I go, do you want it or not?"

"I'm not one to refuse such things." Mukuro grins.

 

*

 

_"I think he's seeing someone. He's always tired and definitely preoccupied." Yamamoto says while jamming some french fries in his mouth._

_"Isn't Mukuro-san seeing someone every night?" Tsuna asks shyly._

_"No, no I meant he's seeing one person. Just one."_

_"Is that even possible? I don't think Mukuro has a monogamous cell in his body." Gokudera says flatly._

_"NOPE, I think he has some, see he's been vigilantly flirting with Yamamoto for years now." Ryohei says adamantly while sipping a milkshake._

_"OF ALL THE! NO ONE NEEDED TO HEAR THAT FROM YOU!" Gokudera smacks him with some rolled up sheets of paper, not really caring if people are starting to look._

_"I'm just saying you pms-ing freak!" Ryohei counters._

_"I think he already went exclusive."_

_Yamamoto is serious, oblivious to his rowdy bandmates._

_Gokudera watches him and clucks his tongue._

_"Well I'll believe it when I see it."_

 

Outside, Gokudera curses himself because his timing is way off this week. Yesterday morning, he saw Mukuro spooning with a boy and then getting a blow job later on. Not that he's a voyeur. Everything's pure coincidence. So he can't help but think back on that random conversation. He's so into this stream of thought that he instantly panics when he doesn't feel the apartment keys in his pockets.

"I forgot our apartment keys at the studio, Takeshi."

"I'll make a run for it." Yamamoto volunteers.

Gokudera shakes his head and glances at a quiet Tsunayoshi beside him.

"No, it's my fault. I'll be te one to get the keys. Because, Yamamoto, god forbid you get distracted and start appreciating the moonlight or the road or the damn breeze and start strolling down memory lane."

Yamamoto smiles and shakes his head. 

"Yeah, yeah. We'll be at the park in front of the station."

"Roger that! Tsuna, I'll be right back. Wait with Yamamoto for a while."

 

*

 

When he reaches the studio, he can see lights and he's careful to peek through the window first, to make sure that Mukuro and his friend are decent, unlike the last time.

Mukuro seems to be giving the other a guitar lesson. But then again it could just be a tactic. Or even foreplay. Gokudera shudders, but it looks innocent with the waythat person is holding the guitar. Mukuro's reaching from behind him and helping him strum.

“You loser...that's the oldest trick in the book.” Gokudera says and he knows. He let Yamamoto use the same trick on him years ago.

"Mukuro, I'm coming in." 

That's the only announcement he makes when he opens the door and Gokudera sees Mukuro sitting on the arm of the sofa and that other boy's still holding the red Les Paul.

"Forgot something?" Mukuro asks confidently.

"Keys. Your friend?" Gokudera looks Hibari over.

"Gokudera. Our bass player, band leader." Mukuro speaks to Hibari in an even tone. Hibari looks at this person and nods quietly, remembering that first time he met Mukuro and that incident with the amplifier. 

"I'm Hibari." The words are clear, and he doesn't need Mukuro to introduce him.

"I see. Guitar lessons." Gokudera says before gesturing "Well, I'm off, they're waiting at the station. Don't forget to lock up."

Mukuro waves, while Hibari takes point five seconds to forget Gokudera was ever there.

"So where were we?" Mukuro asks innocently.

 

*

 

Band practice is a lot more intense this afternoon because of an upcoming competition. They intend on wiping the competition out with a bunch of originals and intelligently-picked covers. There's a lightness to their rehearsal today. 

Gokudera has not snapped on anyone more than once, not even Ryohei.

"From the top. Stone Roses." Tsunayoshi looks at his band mates.

"Wait up."

All eyes are on Gokudera. Even Mukuro sits up to peer at him, stretches so he can see past Tsunayoshi -- because this is a first. In all the years he's been playing with this band, it's the first time Gokudera disrupts practice for no reason at all.

"I'm going to get a Cappuccino. Anyone want anything from the coffee shop downstairs?"

Yamamoto laughs to himself. The world does not end that afternoon.

 

*

 

_A song is anything that can walk by itself._

 

Hibari walks down the hall with a bag of food in his hand, expression less somber than when he first arrived in this town a week or so ago. When he opens the door to the studio where Mukuro rehearses with his band he looks around, tells himself it's okay to be there because Mukuro said so. Today is different, normally, it's an empty room, a couch and some instruments that greet him. But tonight, it's a full house.

Everyone he's heard about him from Mukuro, it seems. Asking him to come by earlier than he usually does.

"Come in, Kyoya." Mukuro smiles. 

"I have a few people I'd like you to meet."

"We've met." Gokudera supplies and helps Mukuro with the introductions.

 

(tbc)


End file.
